Always, I Love You, I Hate You
by lovely ravenclaw
Summary: A oneshot for a contest at The Final Battle about Draco and Ginny's tumultuous relationship postHogwarts. Rated T for swearing, some violence, and sexual inuendos.


Disclaimer: I don't own Ginny or Draco or anything else recognizable

**Always…I Love You, I Hate You**

Ginny Weasley paced the floor of the apartment she shared with her boyfriend with a scowl, muttering impolite things under her breath. She wore no mark of the ferocious, albeit loving anger of her mother. Molly Weasley could scold and shout and stamp her feet till the earth shook, but her eyes were always soft and the yelling always ended in one of those suffocating hugs. No, Ginny had not inherited this motherly demeanor. Instead, Ginny's eyes were steely and unforgiving, almost hateful. Perhaps a bit of Tom Riddle still lurked somewhere deep down inside of the fiery young woman. When she heard the tell tale creak of the front door she spun around with a flash of red hair.

"Where the hell have you been?" She hissed, crossing the room with two long strides until she was dangerously close to the man she loved–and hated–more than anyone in the world. She could smell the alcohol on his breath and could not help but notice his usually sharp, icy eyes were cloudy and blurred around the edges. His carefully styled hair hung haphazardly into his face.

In response to Ginny's question, Draco smashed her mouth forcefully against his own. For a split second, Ginny relaxed into the kiss, feeling those lovely, familiar lips against her own. Her boiling blood coursing through her body made it quite difficult to remember why she'd been so furious at Draco only moments before. However, a second later her body tensed up and she pushed Draco roughly against the door. His eyes opened wide with surprise, longing, and arousal, but any ideas he might have had were dismantled when Ginny spat in his face.

"Don't you dare kiss me with those filthy lips. I've no idea where they've been tonight," she hissed at him. He slumped, defeated, against the door at his back. "Who was it this time Draco? Was she someone new? Or have you seen her before? Maybe an old friend?" She asked as she meandered through the living room they shared, the living room they had meticulously decorated together two years prior, the living room in which he had undoubtedly shagged countless women while she was away on business. She turned to stare at him maliciously, while fingering an antique flower vase that had cost him a bundle, "Was it Pansy?" His reaction did not change in the least, but Ginny just knew, she knew she was right. She launched the flower vase at Draco where it smashed inches away from his face. He did not even flinch. He knew the routine.

"Is that the best you can do?" He drawled, the sharpness returning to his features. Expensive antiques being flung at his head always had a way of dragging him from his drunken stupors. "Is Gryffindor's star scorer losing her touch?" The corner of his mouth curled upward, revealing the trademark Malfoy smirk. She did not miss Malfoy's double entendre and only glared at him icily, picking up the Tiffany's lamp perched on the end table. She wrenched it free from the socket in the wall and held it up menacingly, daring Malfoy to say another word.

"Ah, well, it's about time you started throwing like a girl. Maybe while you're at it you could pick up some other feminine traits. Would it kill you to cook dinner once in a while?" He asked her. The lamp came hurtling at him and he jumped out of the way just in time. His eyes widened a little before he regained control of his features. She'd never _actually_ aimed for him before. He sauntered forward and grasped her shoulders tightly, a little too tightly. Ginny grimaced under his grip.

"Well well, looks like little Miss Weasley is finally learning something," he sneered. Once again he bent down to kiss her forcefully. She kissed back just as fiercely, not pulling away, but not giving in to the kiss either. She bit down on his lip so hard that she was certain she'd drawn blood. Sure enough, Draco pulled away from her, putting a hand to his lip where a crimson drop was rolling down the corner of his mouth.

"You God damn minx," he swore at her. She smiled triumphantly and sauntered towards the kitchen, letting her hips sway just a bit more than usual, knowing he would follow her.

"So how was it?" She asked without even turning around to see if he was there. She stood with her back facing the door, hiding the crumbling expression on her face and the tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. When she turned back around, the look was gone, replaced by one of stoic coldness. "I said, how was it?"

"What the hell are you playing at Ginny?" He retorted.

"I want to know, what she has that I don't. What they all have that I don't have. I want to know, Draco, what's so wrong with me that you're out every night with a different girl," Ginny rambled, her voice becoming slightly hysterical. Draco watched her intensely, and couldn't help but notice that she was standing dangerously close to the drawer of knives.

"Ginny," he said, his voice much softer than before, "come on Gin. Let's go into the bedroom. We can talk about it there." Her hand was lingering now at the top of the drawer.

"Talk about it there? Talk about it? I know exactly what you want to do in the bedroom and it has nothing to do with talking! My friends have been telling me for months Draco! Telling me to leave you, telling me that you're no good, that you're worthless. It's about damn time that I started listening to them." She whipped the knife out of the drawer so fast that Draco barely had time to register what was happening. She marched towards him, eyes flashing, and stuck the knife forcefully into the center of their kitchen table, before heading out of the kitchen, out of their apartment, and out of Draco's life, for good.


End file.
